Moonlight Swim
by oxycodone
Summary: Lily likes to take a midnight swim at the Lake when it's warm, unaware that her boyfriend's best friend is right there in the shadows, watching. Sirius/Lily. Warnings: smoking, infidelity, implied sex, stalker-ish behavior on Siri's part.


_**A/N: **_**Warnings: infidelity, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, stalker-ish tendencies. ****A ****disclaimer: This is written for**** fun, not profit. I do not own anything except the plot.**

The first time he sees her is by accident.

Whenever he has trouble sleeping - which is quite often - he goes down to the Lake to smoke cigarettes and stare at the calm black surface of the water until his erratic mind calms down.

One night, as he is walking towards the Lake, hands in his pockets, he hears the soft rustle of clothes being removed and sees a flash of pale skin. He is a curious guy, to a level that often becomes dangerous to himself and those around him, so naturally he moves closer.

When he sees the moonlight reflected off what looks like dark, almost blood colored hair - he knows it to be a bright, brilliant red in the sunlight - he _knows._

He _knows_ that her bare back with delicate bones showing under the transculent skin isn't his to look at. He_ knows_ he should turn around to leave.

Instead, he stays half hidden in the shadows and lights up a cigarette.

The next day, he cannot meet her eyes as she banters easily with Remus and jokes with Peter. Somehow, it feels indecent to look at her in the brightness of the sun. When even simply breathing next to her becomes too much of a chore to handle, he mumbles some lame excuse and flees the scene.

Still, even though it was wrong, he sometimes thinks that if he left it at that one night, and never went back, it would almost be okay.

But there he is the next night, practically running to the Lake, almost leaving his cigarettes behind in his haste.

Even as he fumbles through the bushes and weeds, he is half hoping that she won't show up.

But she does.

Every single night, Lily Evans - unaware that he is always right there in the shadows, watching - takes her clothes off and swims in the Black Lake, graceful as ever.

He cannot, for the life of him, fathom why she does it. He's tried swimming in there before, the water has a unique, biting cold that seeps right through the skin and the Giant Squid is less than friendly, to say the least.

Not that he is complaining or anything.

Every night, he gets a little bolder, moving just a little closer, just a little more into the light.

He observes the way she religiously folds her clothes after taking them off, and how she barely surfaces to breathe at all, apparently preferring to stay underwater as long as she can.

After a while, he gets so close that he can practically count the freckles dusting her shoulder blades, and then even the ones trailing lower...

He considers touching himself once or twice, but he can't bring himself to do it. Every moment he spends watching her feels so fragile, he is scared to death of disturbing the fleeting magic that he swears he can feel in the air.

He both dreads getting caught and hopes, desperately, that one night, she will just turn around and meet his eyes.

But she never does, and he always stays in the shadows, chain smoking the entire pack with sweaty, shaking hands until she emerges from the Lake, water drops clinging to her skin like tiny crystals.

So it comes as a complete shock when she whispers against his lips that _yes, she did see him watching._

It happens months after he starts his little routine, and finally it is too cold to swim. He already knows she won't be there, but he goes anyway and just idly sits on the rock closest to the water with an unlit cigarette hanging loosely between his lips.

When he feels a feather light touch against his shoulder, he almost topples over into the water.

But, poetically enough, _she_ pulls him back and saves him from the dark and the cold.

Her lips are burning hot despite the icy wind and when she confirms his only hope _and_ his worst fear, breathing hard against his lips, his first reaction is to pull away. Shame burns his cheeks and he is desperate to explain, to apologize, to say _something,_ even though he has no idea what.

But she won't let him.

She straddles him, not bothering to fold her clothes this time and his body feels hot and cold at the same time and he sees stars and can't help but think about James - though it is not in guilt he thinks of him, but anger. He inwardly curses him for getting to have this every night, yet not being good enough to keep it.

He knows better than to expect her to choose him, so he is not surprised to see her the next morning at breakfast, smiling at James over french toast and fresh orange juice. He has never been _anyone's_ first choice, not even his parents', so it barely even hurts.

_Almost never_. Now that he thinks about it, he is _James's_ first choice. It's no secret that he puts him before Remus and Peter.

How ironic.

He shuffles his feet as he takes his usual seat next to James, across _her_ and she throws him a quick smile, barely sparing a brief glance.

Yet, in that split second that their eyes meet, he swears he can see the moonlight and the eerie glow of water in her eyes and he is relieved to find that, finally, he is able to look at her in sunlight again.

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